Up until approximately an hour ago, I have been exemplary in my Christmas eating. Or lack thereof. By now I would usually have fallen headfirst into a vat of canapés, chocolate (Big Purple Quality Street, mmm), chocolate log and booze. To name but a few. This year, despite the devils ‘stress’ and ‘temptation’ – along with their evil genius sibling ‘oh-sod-it’ – I have not had anything that was not diet-compliant. Despite a few meals out, one of which where I had roast beef and left the potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, not a morsel of pudding or carbs have passed my lips. Even my niece proffering a Hotel Chocolat tiddy caramel chocolate penguin was resisted. And she was asking questions that would make a tougher woman than me crack for sugar (“are you going to have babies? Why not? Don’t you like children? But I want to meet your children”). Fortunately a man in a white woolly suit and a small boy whizzed through the air which distracted her (we were at the Snowman ballet, lest this sound just too surreal).
Last night, after the day from hell which concluded with a trip to a chaotically busy Westfield East , I went home and made mince pies for the office (my cunning secret is an orange pate sucree and cointreau and pecans in the mincemeat). Hot out of the oven and smelling enticingly Christmassy and I didn’t even have a bite. I’ve had one today (not a pie, an actual mince pie) though and so much chocolate that I feel sick and my heart is racing. Let that be a lesson to me.
I think it’s because I WI on a Wednesday and I know there will be off-piste eating from now, I mean, Friday to New Year’s Day. I lost 1lb this week – I’m not sure that fully rewards the heroic levels of restraint I’ve practised but it’s better than nowt.
I’m now almost back to what I was before the US. Far short of my goal, made in November, of being Porky.0 by Christmas, I am in fact Porky.4 ½. And when I read back to my entries of the beginning of the year, I was adamant that I wanted to be a size 12 by now. Oh. I am in fact (still) a size 16. I think I’ve spent most of the year yo-yo-ing within the Porky stone bracket. Possibly I was heavier at the beginning of the year (probably in fact as my first entry of the year records me giving in and putting my size 18 jeans on) but the earliest date I’ve recorded my weight is the 20 April when I was Porky.10 ¼ - it’s not a stellar performance is it? Effort 8/10, achievement 1/10.
I can’t tell you how much I hope that 2012 is the year that I crack this. Not least because I got quite tearful out at dinner with one of my best friends on Monday about how scared I am about looking fat and ugly in photos that are there for posterity (my fat posterior captured for posterity, a scary thought) and how traumatic I fear finding a wedding dress is going to be.
With that in mind, whilst I’m going to have treats from Friday night til New Year’s Day, I’m really not going to go into calorie free-fall. I’m already so behind on what I want, no, NEED to achieve, I need to give myself as much of a headstart for 2012 as I can. My friend and I are planning a Bodypump class on a Monday and I may do the Pilates class beforehand which should help build some metabolism-raising muscle. I really need to lose at least half a stone every month from January to April (it won’t take me far enough but I reckon it should take me comfortably into a size 14, even allowing for some Christmas excess baggage). It’s a tall order for snail-metabolism me so I’m going to need a fair wind and a lorra, lorra luck. Please keep your fingers crossed for me, I need all the help I can get.